Laura walked in, expecting to see a large mess. Instead, she met with a spotless living room, medium in size. She walked around, inspecting the room. There was a small, grey, aged couch at one end of the room, a mottled coffee table leg's distance from it, and a moderately sized TV/DVD combo on a table at the opposite side of the room (roughly fifteen feet away). Other than that, the room was bare. Three hallways extended out from this room.
"Wow!" she exclaimed. "It's…clean!"
"You expected anything different?" Cory asked.
"No…" Laura trailed off. She sat on the couch.
Cory pointed to each of the hallways. "That hallway leads to the bathroom, that hallway leads to the office, and that one leads to my room and the kitchen. There's some food in there: not much, but help yourself. As for a bed, you're welcome to my room. There's a futon in the office; I'll sleep there."
Laura shook her head. "I refuse to take your room and make you sleep on a futon. I'll sleep here until we get better arrangements set up," she said, stretching out on the couch and closing her eyes. Her legs stretched out over one arm of the couch as she rested her head on the opposite arm.
Cory took this time to look her over: lean, semi-tall. She looked to be about 5'8" (most of that seemed to be her legs, as she had long legs). He couldn't be exactly sure, but he had noticed that he was just a few inches taller than her. She wore a tight-fitting black shirt (she had obviously planned for stealth) and jeans. She had an innocent looking face (he hadn't been kidding when he guessed her age) and sleek, black hair that reached somewhere around mid-way between her shoulders and her elbows.
He shrugged. "Suit yourself. The offer's up if you change your mind. I'm tired; I'm going to bed." He turned towards the hallway leading to his room.
"Cory?"
Cory cringed. He hated being referred to by his first name; it wasn't professional. Mike had particularly gotten to him earlier, but he let it go. And now Laura was doing it? He'd talk to Mike if he kept it up, but Cory decided to make an exception for Laura.
"Yeah?" he asked, turning his head around towards her. She still had her eyes closed, resting on the couch.
"Thanks again for saving me…and giving me a ride and helping me get situated. And letting me stay with you until this is over."
"It's business, Agent Fleet."
"Please, call me Laura."
Cory turned back. "No. We work together; I will address you by your last name."
"Okay, then. Good night."
"Good night."
Cory went to his room (nearly as barren as the living room, as all there were was a bed, a wardrobe, and a little table by the bed) and lay down on the bed. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but sleep just wouldn't come to him. He lay there for about three hours before finally getting up and looking at the clock. 4:37 AM. Cory rubbed his eyes and walked to the kitchen (consisting of a cabinet, an oven, a refrigerator, a microwave, and a table with two chairs) to get a glass of water. Returning to the living room, he found Laura sound asleep, curled into the couch.
"Glad someone's getting some sleep," he muttered, taking a drink from his glass.
He walked across the room and entered his office. This was the only room that actually seemed to have something in it: it contained many sophisticated electronic items, the floor and desks (there were about four desks in this room, and three chairs, two of which rolled) strewn with random papers. Cory sat down at the computer in this room and turned on the monitor, rubbing his eyes. Once the operating system had booted, he loaded a program to allow him to patch into the feed from the bug he had laid. He watched it for an hour: nothing at all. Finally, he collapsed on the keyboard, able to sleep.
He was violently awakened by an alarm two hours later, 6:45 AM. His head darted up, he smacked the off button on the clock, and focused on the monitor he had fallen asleep in front of. Nothing out of the ordinary, just some morning cleaning crews. He yawned. He hadn't slept this restlessly in a long time. He thought work might be getting to him, but he immediately dismissed that notion. Standing up, he picked up his glass from a few hours before and exited the room. Down the hall, he could hear the quiet murmur of the television.
"Good morning, Fleet," he muttered, entering the room.
"Good morning," she replied. She sat on the sofa, her eyes on the TV, watching some news program. "When do we leave?" she asked, her gaze not moving.
"Half an hour." He walked into the kitchen to place his glass in the sink, then back to his room to get ready. Twenty minutes later, he was ready, showered and dressed. He stood by the front door. Laura was ready, so he exited without a word. She followed.
The drive was uneventful. Every time Laura would attempt to instigate conversation, Cory would dismiss the talk, so eventually Laura gave up. Arriving at TPH, Mike greeted them at the door.
"Well, there you two are!" he said cheerfully.
Cory was not amused. "What are you doing?"
"I'm just greeting our guest!"
"You're early."
"I thought you could take-"
Cory held up his hand. "I know where you're about to go with that sentence, and allow me to stop you. No, I'm not taking her out to get things. I'm not her babysitter."
Laura coughed in an "I'm still here" sort of way. Cory ignored it.
"Cory!" Mike said strictly. "Show our guest some respect!"
"If you want to help her, you can take her yourself. I've got a job to do." Cory brushed past Mike and entered the building without a second glance back.
Laura took a couple of steps forward to join Mike's side. "Why do you put up with his attitude?"
"Well," Mike sighed, "he's good at what he does. Very good. Even if he can be a bit abrasive."
